


Pick Your Battles

by StrangertoBluewaters



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, make-up sex, the best sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 14:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangertoBluewaters/pseuds/StrangertoBluewaters
Summary: Chris is a blanket hog.





	Pick Your Battles

**Author's Note:**

> Because make-up sex is great sex.

Pick Your Battles

 

Michael was cold. Freezing actually. Hazy with sleep she uses a hand to seek out the source of her discomfort. She finds it amongst four blankets and a warm body nestled within them. And she was on the outside on the fucking moon!

Son of a bitch... 

It was bad enough she had clearly overslept and was still in Captain Pike’s quarters but to make matters sub zero he had once again stolen the blankets. 

What the hell? Why did he need all of them? 

If this had been an isolated event in his character makeup she wouldn’t complain... but this was not an isolated event! Was he trying to mess around with her, was he trying to incite humor? What was his fucking angle? 

And worse why hadn’t he let her leave? They hadn’t even had sex! They had a delicious meal, listened to an album and... fallen asleep?

Gripped by an impulse she had never felt before she can’t stop herself as she shoves her foot into his side immediately waking him.

“Lights!” She demands and he’s sitting up, hair messed with an expression of sheer confusion. 

“Mi...chael?” He mumbles groggily. “What time-“  
“You,” Michael begins, fully awake and Chris, himself, still half asleep, “always do this!”

If there were covers to fling she would’ve flung them, but instead Michael rises the from bed dressing haphazardly and angrily. Searching for her boots or something to throw at him.

“What... I’m admittedly very confused and... Jesus.” Chris says running a hand over his face and yawning... he had the balls to yawn right now? 

“Why didn’t you convince me to leave?” She asks him half dressed. “Why do you always make me stay!”

Sitting at the foot of the bed she pulls on one sock and then a boot, ignoring his movement on the bed. He moves to touch her shoulder and she actually flinches from it. It seems to do the trick because she has never shied away from him, it’s startling to him. 

“I don’t seem to recall you needing much convincing.” He finally gives into the dog fight and she’s sickenly pleased with herself. Good. 

Over her shoulder she spits,

“Maybe you need to keep your out of control libido in check.”

Chris sets his jaw, eyes angry and tired and completely unimpressed by her words. 

Shit-head, she thinks. 

“My libido?” He challenges, hands gesturing to himself. “I’m sorry, who just materializes whenever she has an itch? Need I remind you we didn’t even fuck.” The way he says it... sounds crude. He’s said plenty of crude and vulgar things to her before but this had a different emotion behind it. He wanted to hurt her.

That stung. It implied she only came to him because of sex. 

“Might want to put pants on too before your boots.” He comments and she’s too annoyed to even register it instead she lets his first comment linger like a flesh eating virus,

“Oh please,” she says, rolling her eyes, unable to stop herself. “Like you wouldn’t come find me when you had your own itch.”

“I’m still not sure where this is coming from.” Chris says, throwing off covers and she wished she could shove them down his throat. He goes to the bathroom, the door sliding shut.

For a moment she thinks about what she’s done. Groaning that it doesn’t help, that she picked a fight for no reason-

The door opens again and her thoughts are cut short,

“No one is making you fall asleep, like the dead I might add.” 

Ok. So the fight wasn’t done and all guilt was flushed down the toilet. 

“And just who is to blame for these midnight hour liaisons?” She quips. “God, you’re such... a man sometimes.”

Chris breathes a sarcastic laugh, arms folded over his chest. 

“Newsflash, Michael, I happen to be a man.”  
“Yes, a fact you have to prove to everyone again and again.” She mutters but loud enough that he heard it. 

“What does that mean?” He demands, his voice shaking audibly with his irritation, head tilting as if he hadn’t heard her right. 

“You’re constantly throwing yourself into dangerous situation after dangerous situation. It’s a wonder you’ve lived so long.”

Chris grits his teeth. He didn’t know why Michael decided to pick a fight with him in the middle of the night. Maybe it wasn’t really about him, or at least he hoped.

They hadn’t fought before. Disagreed but never fought. 

“Well,” He says letting out a breath, expelling his wounded ego. “Maybe you won’t have to worry long then.”

Something changes on Michael’s face. He thinks it’s the moment she realizes what she said. 

The moment she realized he didn’t know what provoked this or why and he was trying desperately to understand. The horrible moment when she realized that she hurt his feelings.

That if he was trying to hurt her then it was only reactionary. 

“If you want to leave then... there’s the damn door.” His words fall softly, almost weakly. He gets back into bed, ordering the lights off leaving Michael to sit and wallow in the dark. He leaves the decision to her.

His mother always said, pick your battles.

He hears her move, listening keenly in the dark. The first boot falls off, then the other out of her hands. He steals himself. To hell with her. She could pout and cry all she wanted he didn’t give a damn. 

Chris feels Michael tug lightly at the blankets. He’s tempted to tighten his hold on them. 

Damn it. 

He lifts the blanket and almost nervously she nestles against his chest, her face buried there and he wishes he didn’t enjoy the way her breath tickled his skin. 

Sighing deeply he wraps his arms around her. 

“What was that about?” He asks her firmly and she shakes a little.

“I... something set me off. I’m sorry.”

Goddamnit. He rests his chin on the top of her head. How long had the fight lasted? Three minutes. Maybe five? 

“It’s ok.” He relents, his fingers moving down her back. Although, personally, he was still pretty sore from it.

“No. I got mad and blamed you.” She recalls and he shrugs. 

“What set you off?” He asks and its then Michael realizes she couldn’t possibly tell him that she railed against him simply because he was a blanket hog. She was slowly coming to the sickening realization she had behaved completely irrationally. 

“It’s stupid,” she admits, hoping he backs down.   
“I’m all ears.” He says, pursuing the reason and the why behind her outburst in hopes of avoiding it again at all costs.

“I was cold,” She says after a minute. “You took all the blankets.”

Chris rears back, looking down at her with one of his totally expressive “what?” faces. 

“I told you it was-“  
“You gave me whatfour because I hogged a quilt?”  
“Four quilts!” She corrects him and Chris lets his head drop into the pillows, turning away and removing her from his arms. 

That’s it, double to hell with her. She can sleep on the damn couch or the floor, he’ll even toss her a blanket so Miss. Prissy Pants won’t get cold. He knew was being childish but while he had been hurt and angry before now he was fucking pissed. 

Sitting up she orders the lights at 10%, she needs to at least be able to see him. Groaning Chris pulls a pillow over his head. 

“Here, take them, take them all!” He moans, shoving the blankets towards her. “I don’t care.” 

Michael rolls her eyes for a second time that night, only this time because he’s being far too melodramatic. Not that she was one to talk. Setting her chin on his shoulder she reaches for his hand but he limply tries to pull away,

“No. Now I’m mad.” He grumbles under the pillow.  
“Chris,” she whispers his name, running her fingers lightly down his bicep, not attempting to seduce him just to let him know she was there. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you. Go to sleep.” He says and she tugs on his elbow.  
“No you don’t.” She challenges and he pulls the pillow down just a little to reveal his eyes.  
“Yes, I do. Sleep.” He orders her again but this time she urges him onto his back and he gives in because he’s tired. 

Cupping his face, Michael makes sure he looks her in the eye before she speaks again,

“I am sorry.” 

Chris eyes her curiously, her demeanor was completely different than it had been minutes ago. She had been... well, bitchy to say the least. Not that he couldn’t handle it he had just hoped they were above such pettiness. But he knew they were only human. 

“Michael, I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in years. Not regularly anyway.” He defends and she nods.

“I know, I understand. I... I’m high maintenance.” She says, trying to take blame so he wouldn’t feel bad but he sighs heavily again, bringing his arm around her petite waist. 

“No, you’re not actually. I think people think you are but they don’t know you.”   
“Not like you do.” She assures him, kissing his cheek.   
“Hmm...” he grunts and she smiles against him. 

“Are you still mad?” She asks him, he senses the coyness in her voice but chooses not to put all his eggs in one basket. 

He shrugs one shoulder, choosing not to answer.

“Come on,” she continues, lifting herself to straddle his waist. She brings his hands reluctantly up to her hips, attempting to ignore the not so subtle reaction his body naturally has to hers. “There must be something I can do to make up for my behavior, captain.” 

He chuckles, clearly understanding where she was going with this. 

“I’m not that easy, Michael.” He warns her and she leans over his chest, her hands on either side of his head. 

“No, you’re a gentleman,” she whispers against his lips, moving her mouth over his neck to kiss him lightly and he sucks in a sharp breath when he feels her hips beginning to wriggle against him. “A gentleman on the bridge,” a kiss to adam’s apple. “And an adonis in bed.” 

“I think that’s pushing it a little.” He argues but chokes on his words when she kisses his nipple, sucking lightly on it before moving back up to his chin, nipping gently with the slightest hint of danger then hovering over him so her breasts were right at eye level for him. 

Really? 

“I don’t think so,” she disagrees, this time grinding her core into his hardening dick a little more solidly and he groans softly, his hands still on her hips, guiding her without realizing it. “I know how kinky you can be.”

Chris wondered just how far this post-argument fight Michael was willing to go,

“You think so?” He asks her, his voice lowered as she moves against him, he feels how hot he makes her, how slippery wet she must already be. 

“Yeah.” She answers, he suddenly leans up tearing down the front of her shirt, ripping it in half and using his mouth on her hard little peak, swirling his tongue around it’s tightness and she cries out, her legs wrapping around him.

Chris feels her hands in his hair, knows how much she likes running her fingers through it. He was still a little peeved, she wasn’t getting away with it that easy. He rolls her onto her back, taking her wrists in his hand, holding them hostage high above her head, stretching out her torso. 

“You haven’t had much make-up sex, have you?” He whispers and Michael shivers when he uses that voice. The voice that could make her do whatever he wanted. She was unashamed in her passion for him, unbridled by the constraints of what society said she should and shouldn’t like. 

But Michael does like it when he commands her in bed, she does like it when he lets her take the lead sometimes, she does love it when he’s forceful and demanding and uses her without shame. 

“No,” she answers him and he sets himself between her betweens. “But... I have a feeling-”

Chris presses his hand over her mouth and her eyes widen for a split second, a single look from him tells her she has nothing to fear, not really. 

“I don’t want you to make a sound.” He says sternly and her brow furrows.

Wait... what? He couldn’t be serious was not an uncommon thread of thought that often flitted across her mind while intimate with him, at least that’s how it had been at first. But Chris had an uncanny way of surprising her. Just when she thought she knew all she needed to know about his sexual endeavors and likes and dislikes, he showed her his real hand.

And fuck if she didn’t like folding under the pressure.

“Do you think you can do that for me, honey?” He asks her, slowly removing his hand from her mouth and tracing her cheek with a finger. “Think you can keep those pretty lips closed for me?”

Damn him. He was doing this on purpose. It was her anger and mouth that had gotten her into this mess and frankly she had hoped she could use the latter to her advantage. But he turned the tables on her. Now he expected her to be silent while he... what was he planning on doing?

Would he give her another now infamous between them Christopher Pike spankings? 

“Well?” He waits and she nods her head, absolutely unsure if she were actually capable of giving him what he wanted in this regard. “Good.” He kisses her gently at first then tips her head back, allowing him easy access to her tongue and the crevices of her mouth.

Fuck... she keeps reminding herself she can’t make a sound. She can’t moan or sigh or... fuck, her body needed to sigh! Physically, it needed to do that but... 

“You hurt my feelings, Michael,” he whispers when he moves from her mouth to her cheek, his free hand skimming over her hard nipple, barely giving it any mind. “I expect you to have better manners with your captain.” 

Michael fights every single impulse not to say: acting captain. 

He can see it on her face and he smirks, his hand moving to her damp underwear, his thumb moving under the material at her hip.

“I like these on you,” he comments, looking down south. “Maybe I should just leave you like this.”

Without thinking her mouth opens but nothing comes out, she fights the urge to threaten him with bodily harm should he leave her like this. 

“I bet you’re dying to tell me you’ll pulvarize me, huh?” He chuckles warmly then plants a searing open mouth kiss to her tummy, right below her belly button. 

Oh fuck... he’s such an asshole when he does this. A tall, gray, smolderingly, good, hot, fucking... shit, his tongue is running over her skin and his teeth are pulling at her panties.

“Keep your hands above your head.” He orders before throwing her legs entirely open and moving between them, tearing off her panties in the process.

Jesus, if seeing him suddenly dive between her legs and supplant his mouth firmly to her pussy wasn’t enough to make her cry out and bite her lip raw then certainly the idea that she couldn’t touch him or make a sound would.

Chris isn’t giving her time to even breathe, he’s going at her with a determination she can’t describe. He flicks her clit with moist tip of his tongue, his fingers spreading her open and easily gliding through her.

And she still can’t make a sound.

It’s threatening to rip through her- her orgasm as well as a her moan- but she fights it, God she needs to fight it. She loses touch with what she’s holding back more. Cumming or screaming. 

Fuck, the way his fingers play her g-spot perfectly, the way his tongue just knows her clit like they’re best friends. 

Was there anyone else better at giving head than Christopher Pike?

Suddenly his movements are gradually slowing down and she shakes her head. Bastard, she’s close and it’s painful. 

“Did you think it would be that easy?” He says and she opens her eyes to see him right in front of her, licking his lips and returning a hand to her wrists. “Now,” he begins, running his blazing hot cock along her opening and she clenches her thighs around his hips. “I’m gonna fuck you hard, fast and so deep it’ll probably hurt,” 

Fuck, shut up and just do it! She loved his voice but sometimes it was too much.

“But you’re gonna break, Michael,” he whispers into her ear. “You’ll break and you’ll moan and even when you think I’ve gone too deep...” he kisses her sweetly under her ear. “You’ll ask me for more.” 

To hell with it, she had formulated the perfect response when he suddenly slid home, hammering her sweet spot on the first go and his hand slapped over her mouth again,

“Too bad I won’t be able to hear it.” 

Chris delivers on exactly what he said he’d do. Fuck, he’s tilting her hips at just the right angle that he gets her every time and she’s left panting behind his hand, his fingers separating so she can still breathe. He’s right, it does hurt but it’s perfect. God, she’s itching to touch him, to cry out and beg him... fucking beg him. 

Chris is groaning against her, humping his hard cock into- no time to adjust, no time to think, only time to feel and be with him. 

“Ah, fuck it.” He suddenly blurts out, releasing her wrists and taking his hand away from her damp mouth. 

But Michael shakes her head. 

No, no, no... she didn’t want him to give in to her, she didn’t want him to turn tail and be kind. She wanted him to commit to this because she needed it. She needed it on her terms but not really. 

“No,” she begs and he stops only for a second while she blunders, “I... hold me down. Please- and- turn me over, and hold me down.” 

He searches her face for a second. Did he just discover another new kink to Michael Burnham? 

If this was their first time then he would’ve objected entirely but this was definitely not their first time but it was a first for Michael requesting that he... well, pretend to force her? He didn’t want to paint a false picture. He knew damn well what she was asking and he knew he was partly to blame. He had only meant to tease her-

“Michael...” he begins, out of breath because of these thoughts and more were taking place in a very small window of time. 

“I know what I’m asking.” She assures him. “Come on, do it for me.”

Shit. He nods and she lets him take a moment to let it sink in. 

“I love you.” He feels he needs to tell her.   
“I love you too.”

The words slip into the ether and he roughly turns her over and she relishes in it. His hand finds her neck, keeping her in place, keeping her in check. Then his other hand moves to bind her wrists behind her back. 

“You asked for it,” he says darkly and she releases a heavy moan when she feels his dripping cock beginning to fill her pussy. They’ve fucked in this position plenty of times but now she felt completely at his mercy. 

Face down, ass up...

“Fuck.” He hisses when he’s fully inside her again.

Michael moans into the pillows again and cries out at the sudden thrust of his hips, his thumb reassuringly tracing the side of her palm, letting her know he wasn’t trying to actually hurt her. God, even when she asks him not to be sweet he can’t help himself. 

He’s riding her as promised, hard and fast and not exactly touching but branding her insides. She’s dripping down her thighs, she can feel it, she’s so wet and accessible to him. 

Knowing her wrists and arms must be getting tired he lets them fall to her sides when she grips the blankets- the blankets she had originally hated him for taking- tightly. He plants his hands on either side of her chest, bucking into her wildly. 

“Is that what you needed?” He whispers against the nape of her neck. “To be put back in line?”  
“Please...” she whimpers, brokenly.   
“Do you need me to stop, commander?” He asks her, fueling her little kinky game. 

Was she supposed to say yes? No? This was all very new to her. What if she said “yes” but meant “no” and he stopped? 

“I... I don’t know.” She answers instead and he huffs against her neck.  
“I think your pussy likes it,” he goes on and she has no idea where he gets the energy to both tease her verbally and fuck her to within of her life all at the same time. “I think it needed a good, hard fucking.”

“Oh... shit,” she moans, feeling him bringing her closer and closer before slowing down, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.   
“I think you just needed some cock in that uptight, dripping little quim. And you are so very tight, commander.”

Oh God, even such base praise was more than enough.

“And... and what did you need?” She whispers back, taking him a little by surprise. “Is this what you need, captain?” 

Chris stops, breathing heavily against her back. 

“Did you need a naive young woman to take your big cock?” Fuck, he loves when she says that word. You’d think it would sound weird coming from Michael but it only sounded absolutely right. 

“Because,” she pauses, feeling his grip on her loosen some, turning her head to look at him. “I like it.” 

Chris pulls her against him, thrusting his hot tongue inside her mouth, tangling with hers. Panting against her mouth he resumes his hard fucking and claiming of her. Too lost in her dark, vengeful eyes he can’t even speak. She renders him mute, yet again. 

“Cum inside me,” she whimpers and he grinds his molars and shivers. “Please, baby, cum inside me.” 

Chris didn’t know why- well, on a biological level he knew why- such a phrase, such a demand, was such a fucking turn on for most men. It never got old, quite frankly. With her contraception she took regularly there wasn’t a chance she’d get pregnant so there weren’t any risks. But the possibility... that primal urge to fuck her heart out and plant his seed in her was a powerful narcotic. 

Goddamn, seeing his face as he came did it for Michael. She knew why he liked to watch, she knew why he got off on it. Because seeing him cum, seeing him at his most vulnerable, seeing him completely undone and knowing she was the reason was the sexiest thing when it came right down to it. 

When you stripped away the muscle and the nerves, when you looked inside, the look on Chris’ face was as debauched as it was endearing. 

When Michael goes over the edge it’s with him and she’s so fucking wet and he’s cumming so hard he slips out of her, spewing the remaining seed on her thighs. 

Chris lets himself fall onto his back and Michael rolls over, shoulder to shoulder.

After a time, he’s the first to speak,

“So... you liked that?” He asks her, needing to know he hadn’t gone too far. Michael nods.  
“I’m as surprised as you.” She admits.  
“Well,” he swallows through a dry throat. “I think I should steal blankets from you more often.”

Michael groans as she lifts her legs out of the bed but is pulled back into his sweaty chest, his arms around her. 

“Fuck, I’m crazy about you.” He admits, even though he’s already professed his love for her, even through the countless times they’ve had sex. He still can’t stop telling her in different ways how he feels. “Not just because of the sex.” 

Michael laughs, leaning back into him.

“Although it continues to be both amazing and inventive.” He says, resting his chin into the crook of her neck.

“You’re a good guinea pig.” She tells him, tapping him lightly on the arm.  
“Hey-”  
“Joking. Don’t let your masculine pride be so easily bruised. It’s unattractive.”

Chris snorts, actually giggles and she loves that sound from him. 

“So... is make-up sex always that good?” She asks him, running her fingers through the hair on his arm. 

“In my experience it’s rarely second best,” he tells her, his lips moving against her ear. “But I don’t like fighting with you.”

The mood softens, she softens with it and with him.

“I know. I’m sorry.”  
“I’ll get better at it.”

Michael tightens her hold on the arm around her. 

“How am I supposed to go to sleep after that?” She asks him, partly rhetorical.   
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll problem solve until you pass out.” 

She smiles, he knows her habits so well now. She knows his too; that he’s a heavy sleeper and that only her kicking him would’ve woken him. That he’s genuinely good, that it’s not an act. He doesn’t lie, he doesn’t cheat. He holds himself to an umeetable standard, giving everyone in his command a free pass to be human except himself. 

Michael knows he’s more than the best of Starfleet, he was the best of men. Period. 

“I love you.” She whispers but she’s been lost in thought too long and she hears a faint snore coming from behind her. She sighs. All around her, she’s covered in warmth.


End file.
